


(fire) my one desire

by charlie_mou



Series: Random One Piece oneshots [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Bottom Ace, Bottoming from the Top, How Do I Tag, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Smut, sweetness at the end, there's not much plot though, top Marco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-25 20:31:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19753297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlie_mou/pseuds/charlie_mou
Summary: At first, Marco didn't know what they were doing but it became more and more obvious with time - they just couldn't keep their hands off each other.Or in which Marco and Ace can't stop having sex, knowing very well they shouldn't be doing anything at all. Because Ace did try to kill Pops and having sex with someone who tried to kill your father isn't exactly normal.





	(fire) my one desire

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, I don't know why I wrote it. I was a little tipsy when I started but, honestly, I was very much sober writing the rest, procrastinating my other fics. I haven't written smut in years so I may be a little rusty. Or a lot.
> 
> Also, I wasn't sure about the rating so I choose the safe option. It's not exactly graphic-graphic, I think, at least by my standards, I tend to use subtle-but-not-flowery vocab so. And it's pretty vanilla too.

The first time it had happened, they didn’t even know each other’s name.

Marco was on something of a business trip, going to Shanks for some answers about his territory in the New World. One of their islands claimed they were taken over by Redhair Pirates and Pops wanted answers before he declared a war on another Emperor. He didn’t even get to Paradise though.

He got to Sabaody and on Sabaody, he visited Shakky and Rayleigh who was actually there for once. And then he went to a tavern.

Don’t get him wrong, he had been flying for the last four days, not stopping even once. He was tired and on the back of the tavern, there was an inn made especially for wanted pirates.

He was sitting at the bar counter, minding his own business like he usually did when he noticed him - sitting with some masked guy, drinking a mug of beer. There was an orange cowboy hat on the table and a knife, his shirt was wide open, showing off his abs and even through that ugly cargo pants Marco could see those stunning, lean legs.

Marco didn’t know why he paid any attention to him - in the mixed crowd of pirates, thieves, and other criminals he didn't look special. He was a bit younger than most of them but Marco had seen even younger ones. He was a weird mix of cute and hot, with tiny freckles spread all over his body, curly black hair falling into his eyes and tight set of muscles. While talking with the guy in the mask, a vivid spark, something really similar to a campfire, was in his eyes.

Marco took a sip of his own drink, his gaze never leaving the guy.

He turned around, looking straight at Marco as if he knew Marco was watching him. Maybe he did know, maybe it was his haki, maybe it was just a coincident. But it was arousing, his eyes meeting Marco’s, blinking and _smirking_. He tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, saying something to his company, not looking away for even a second.

He got up from his table, hat lying forgotten, knife in the holster on his belt, moving toward Marco. Their eyes separated and Marco’s face frowned in disappointment.

He sat next to him, glancing at him.

“Fancy a drink?” Marco asked him, his voice low and raspy from not speaking for so long.

“Not really,” he answered him, quirking an eyebrow. “But you may get me something else.”

Marco raised an eyebrow at that, leaning in, his grin sly.

Next thing Marco knew, his hands were already in his pants, and Marco had to restrict himself from taking him up against the wall, his hands firmly gripping his hips, fingers brushing the protruding hipbone. They were kissing but it was so messy Marco wouldn’t be surprised if half of the kisses weren’t even close to his mouth, hot skin being just so _breathtaking_.

His arm reached over Marco’s neck, drawing him closer even though Marco hadn’t thought about stepping away.

Marco’s hands wandered down his spine, trying to find their place between the waistband and the hot skin there. When he couldn’t fit his palms, he moved them to the belt, trying to unbuckle it, breaking the kiss, gasping.

The guy moved his hands away from Marco’s pants, losing the grip on his cock.

“We really shouldn't be doing it here,” he muttered, his voice just under Marco’s ear. “Anyone can see.”

Marco blinked, glancing around, noticing they were still in the hallway. He was a bit breathless, never fully taking his eyes off the guy.

“We shouldn’t,” he agreed, stopping the tugging of the belt.

Marco took him by the waist, lifting him up. He moaned, wrapping his legs around him and Marco could feel how much exactly he was exited. They moved from the wall, Marco’s one arm holding him tightly, his other hand searching for the key to his room.

The guy’s lips stopped tracing his chin and he panted, his arms looping around Marco’s neck.

“Fuck,” he spat out, his voice so quiet Marco wouldn’t be able to hear if his mouth weren’t so close his ear. “You’re strong.”

Marco smirked, shifting him in his arm. He was so warm, so alluring he didn’t know if they could make it to his room. He pinned him to the door, their skin burning under the clothes. Marco opened the door, throwing the key somewhere on the floor. The guy’s hand drove into his hair, pulling him closer, crushing their mouth into a fresh series of messy kisses.

Marco could feel his own heartbeat speeding in his ears but it was so vague with the guy’s lips on his, leaving fading hickeys.

Moving around the room, he used one of his hands, the one that had already felt up every inch of that amazing ass, to tug on the hem of his open shirt, thin layer that prevented him from fully experiencing the heated skin. He let go of Marco’s neck, his arms fighting a way out of the sleeves, his body clinging to Marco’s thanks to the sheer strength of his tighs, his hips thrusting, the pure friction and the touch of his groin killing Marco.

The freckles were everywhere, Marco noticed while pushing him down on the bed, hovering over him, even though their hips were still grinding against each other. He slid his boots off with ease and Marco bent down to strip down his own. He peppered his shoulders and all the dark dots on his collarbone, aggressive, almost biting onto them. His hand tried to unbuckle the belt, it wasn’t easy, not with the guy’s hand everywhere, with his sweet moans. The air around was so hot Marco was surprised there was no steam around them.

He unbuckled the belt, noticing his own was gone, skilled hands taking it off along with the sash somewhere between heated kisses. He wiggled out of his pants in one smooth move and Marco felt himself getting even more painfully hard - he wasn’t wearing any underwear.

He kicked off his own pants and the guy helped him out of the boxer briefs after _kneading_ , his finger applying just the right amount of pressure. He grabbed Marco’s shirt, buttons going down so fast Marco’s hands would never be able to do that. He was about halfway done when he froze, his frantic breath catching in his mouth.

The mark on Marco’s chest was clearly visible now.

“You’re a Whitebeard?” he asked, still a bit breathless. His palms were curled into the material of Marco’s shirt.

He leaned in, their faces almost touching, sharing the same air.

“Is this a problem?”

The guy didn’t say anything for a moment but his eyes darted between the tattoo and Marco’s face.

“Oh, to hell with it,” he said, beginning another kiss and unbuttoning the rest of the shirt. It was just as messy and as clumsy as all of the others before and even equally tempting. Marco moved in sync, all of his clothes on the floor, forgotten.

It was almost too hard to lean back from him, their chest touching, sweaty. He had to reach to the drawer, for condoms and the lube. Marco hunched over his body, catching the remains of his breath, kicking the guy’s legs apart so he could better situate himself.

He took the lube first and smeared a large amount onto his fingers before slipping them between. The soft whine that escaped from his mouth as Marco brushed the rim of his hole made his throat clench. He was soft and hot inside and Marco pressed his finger deep and listened to the noises he made at the touch. He was careful, crooking his fingers inside him.

Marco leaned down to kiss the faint freckles on his tight abs, nibbling at them and he fidgeted under him, breathing heavily. He pulled his fingers out, getting busy with opening the condom, and managed somehow to roll it onto his penis along with more lube, all with the trembling of his hands and his body fluttering.

He wrapped his legs around Marco’s waist again, closing the distance, making Marco's penis swell even more. He knocked into his body, his arms shoving the both of them and in a second it was Marco lying under him, looking up at the amazing view.

“You were too slow,” he muttered, eagerness in his gaze.

He looked Marco straight in the eyes, rubbing their cocks against each other and Marco could only squeeze his buttcheeks in his palms at the sensation. Suddenly, he shifted forward, moving up so his hair, wet, fall over his face and his elbow digging into Marco’s chest, _bracing_ his hands. Choosing a stance, he eased his way down, waist flush with Marco’s own. He shut his eyes, biting his lip and groaning, cheeks and the bridge of his nose, full of freckles, red. It was such a sweet sound Marco couldn’t restrain himself, his body twitching. He gripped the guy’s hips, his thumbs brushing the prodding hipbones.

Marco would close his eyes too but his whole expression was so arousing it made him watch, take pleasure in it, arch his hips deeper.

He moved and Marco moaned, thrusting. The resistance was brief, the guy relaxed, his body opening up, welcoming him in. The burning heat became unbearable as he scratched Marco’s chest with his fingers.

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes,” he gasped, urging him on.

His shoulders burst into flames just as Marco rocked forward. He froze for a second there. The bed rattled beneath them and Marco didn’t stop, the warmth of the fire coddling his body. Marco dragged him into another thrust, pulling his body closer, so close he could feel the sweat on his chest. He was the hottest guy Marco had ever had in bed, both literally and figuratively.

“You think too much,” he snapped, words slurring. “Come on, _fuck me_.”

He breathed, trying to ignore the incredible heat wrapped around his dick or the way the guy’s muscles kept on spasming, tightening around him. 

Marco carded his fingers into his hair, grinding deeper, lifting them further from the mattress. His hips eased their way down again and pushed him deep enough that Marco’s balls pressed up against his ass. The heat of it was too much, flames flickering over them, the slick making the slide between them faster.

The guy cursed and shuddered through his orgasm, tightening viciously around Marco and clutching him close through the aftereffects, worn out.

After that, Marco followed, coming with a weak sigh, moaning into his collarbone. They settled against each other, the strength to move non-existing for the moment. The guy moved his hips and got off Marco, his breath slowing down. He took off the used condom, tied it and tossed in the direction of the bin. Marco was going to need a few minutes. Maybe a bit more.

He lied down, his head tilted back into the pillow. Marco gave him a series of small, breathless kisses around his neck, ones that were a bit too sweet for a casual fuck.

“You are not much of a talker, huh?” the guy said.

Marco chuckled, closing his eyes.

When he woke up, there was nothing and no one in the room. _Nothing_. The guy, whoever he was, took everything he could with himself. Money. Maps. Books. Everything that was worth something. Even the dagger with Marco’s name engraved on it.

There was a note. “ _Sorry not sorry. The sex was good though._ ”

Marco kind of felt stupid. Like he was a naive twenty-something kid again.

“I need you to find someone for me,” he told Haruta.

Haruta looked at him, raising an eyebrow, amused.

“Well, Marco, that’s kind of my job, finding people,” he said. “Who is it?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, fidgeting. Haruta held back his snickering, looking more and more amused with every second. “I met him at Sabaody.”

“Him?” Haruta prodded, chuckling. Marco supposed he deserved it. “Was it love at first sight?”

“Rather the opposite. He robbed me.”

Haruta burst out in laughter, shaking uncontrollably. It made Marco want to sigh.

“And how exactly- How exactly did great Marco the Phoenix got robbed?” he questioned. “Oh gods, that’s gonna be funny.”

Marco crossed his arms, clenching his jaw. He looked to the side, his gaze avoiding everything at once.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me, oh brother of mine,” Haruta needled. “Come on, is it that bad?” When Marco didn’t say anything, Haruta’s grin widened. “It _is_ that bad, isn’t it?”

“I may have been seduced and tricked,” Marco confessed, adding before Haruta started laughing again, “Will you help me or not?”

Haruta giggled so much he had to bent and hold his aching stomach, tears gathering in his eyes.

“Fuck, Pops is gonna laugh his ass off,” Haruta teased. “So, who is the special guy? What do you know about him?”

“Hey, Marco, I found your guy,” Haruta said. “The one who robbed you.”

And because Haruta was Haruta, he said it in the mess hall, during lunch, so everyone could hear. As soon as everyone around him noticed what the words meant, the silence overcame the room. Marco’s cheeks were warm but he pretended he didn’t care.

“His name is Portgas D. Ace, he’s captain of Spade Pirates, a crew from East Blue,” Haruta continued, his grin still in place. “You were right, he’s a fire logia. Despite being only nineteen, he’s quite the bounty under the moniker of Fire Fist Ace.”

And, just because Marco wasn’t humiliated enough, Haruta added, a smirk on his face, “Was he really that good?”

So Marco knew his name and maybe there was a bounty poster or two in his drawer, Ace’s adorable face on it, but it didn’t mean anything. They probably wouldn’t meet again.

Except they did.

The last thing he expected was seeing him being the rookie who challenged Pops and fought with Jinbe. But it was him. It was definitely him. Marco remembered tracing the freckles on his chest with kisses, remembered the flames over his shoulders, remembered that _smirk_.

Haruta had been sending him meaningful glances on the way to Jinbe and Marco knew why as soon as he noticed the wall of fire and that familiar orange hat. He tried to keep his distance though, Pops knew what he was doing.

Okay, maybe he was lurking around the room they placed him in after the fight but that didn’t mean anything - he was a doctor and Ace was injured. And _dangerous_ , of course he would like to keep an eye on him.

Thatch laughed at his face when he explained.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad,” he teased. “You’ve been creeping around that door the whole day, I think you need a break.”

And Marco had a break and Ace woke up, hissed at Thatch and _disappeared_ _._ Thatch just shrugged. Marco got back again to the same room, at night, hoping Ace would get back there to sleep, with painkillers and a fresh set of bandages.

He was there.

Marco closed the door behind himself, and he felt a blade on the nape of his neck. This warmth that, now Marco knew, came from being a fire logia, sank through the back of his shirt, Ace’s breath on his shoulder blades.

“That’s not a nice way to greet someone,” he noticed. The blade moved an inch away from his skin.

“It’s _you_ ,” he hissed, his voice doing something to Marco’s heartbeat.

“As you had eloquently noticed, I’m a Whitebeard," he replied. “I thought you may like a familiar face. I swear I’m coming in peace.”

“I bet you are,” he said, the hand on Marco’s back pressing harder before letting him go. Ace moved a foot away. “What do you want?”

Marco turned around, a calm expression on his face even though his heart was pounding in his ears. Ace’s eyes were narrow, looking up at him, unimpressed. He crossed his arms and most people would be just a slight bit intimidated but Marco could only think about the last time he saw that predatory gaze.

“I want to patch you up,” he said, showing the bag with a basic medical kit. “I’m a doctor.”

Ace raised an eyebrow at that and Marco held his breath.

“I’d prefer if Deuce was the one to patch me up,” he retorted. “I know he’s on the ship, that asshole spilled out.”

“That asshole? My guess is you mean Thatch,” Marco said, a bit amused.

“Asshole,” Ace repeated.

“I don’t really know which one of the Spades is Deuce but no can do,” he answered. “They’ve been spread out between different divisions. I’m your only option.”

Ace reached for the bag but Marco moved it out of the way.

“Oh your kind heart amazes me,” he sassed. “I can patch myself up.”

Marco grabbed his forearm and skin there became extremely hot. Ace raised an eyebrow when he didn’t remove his hand. Marco licked his lip.

“The faster you agree, the faster I’ll go away.”

Ace smirked at that and Marco's whole face flushed.

“Maybe I shouldn’t agree then.”

“Just let me,” he said.

Ace closed his eyes and Marco leaned in on instinct. He opened his eyes before anything could happen, glancing up. He turned around, moving to the bed and taking his shirt off and Marco froze, his eyes widening.

“Patch me up, right?” he asked Marco. “Didn’t you want to?”

He blinked a couple of times, a sly grin on his face and Marco licked his lips again before answering, “Yes.”

Ace sat crisscrossed on the bed, looking back at him. “I have a slash wound on my back.”

“Yeah, right.”

Ace didn’t look at him when he sat down behind him and didn’t even glance when Marco opened the medical kit to take out a dressing, a cleaning spray, and medical tape. He cleaned the slash along with some small cuts Ace had all over his back and shoulders. Marco didn’t remember his ack as well as remembered his face but there were just as many freckles there.

“Did you have it planned?” Marco asked. “Back when we slept with each other.”

“Did I have planned what?” he retorted, turning around, their tighs touching.

“Trying to kill Pops.”

His lip started to pull up in a crooked smile and it made a chill run on the back of Marco’s spine. He blinked and Ace climbed over his laps, his arms looping over his shoulders. Marco’s hand gripped his waist.

“Does it matter?” he questioned, his face inches away from Marco, his breath soft. “I didn’t know you were a Whitebeard before we went to your room. I didn’t even know your name.”

He was still on Marco’s laps, Marco sitting on the edge of the bed, trying not to move his hips. It was way too hard with Ace looking at him.

“Marco, my name is Marco,” he told him, fingers digging into the heated skin. “And it matters to me.”

Ace snorted, giving him a look before bending his neck and crushing their mouth. It was as hot as the first time, with him panting into Marco’s lips and nibbling on his jaw. He left hickeys on his throat, ones that would heal in a matter of minutes thanks to his healing factor but now were burning on his skin like fire. His palms blazed in the place when they held Marco’s neck.

He pushed Marco down on the worn-out mattress, his hands holding Marco down when he left marks over his collarbone, when he almost prodded the shirt from his shoulders. He hovered over him, a spark in the eyes and Marco couldn’t breath when he arched his hips, grinding.

And then he slid down on his knees without any protest, slipping out of Marco’s grip.

“What?” Marco spluttered, leaning on his elbows, feeling his hands brushing over his cock when Ace untied the sash. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” he wondered, tilting his head up to stare at him through his eyelashes. “Showing you it doesn’t matter.”

This was a terrible idea but Marco had to admit that he was looking even more tempting kneeling like this. He didn’t realize how turned on he was until Ace reached for his belt and pulled his pants down along with his underwear. His throat went dry.

“Ready?” he asked, a grin on his face. By then he’d already moved his hands into Marco’s pants to grasp at his cock.

“Fuck,” he groaned when he swallowed him down.

He had Ace on his mind the whole day but this was nowhere near what he had in mind. “Fuck, I-“ he moaned, realizing that he didn’t have enough in himself to muster anything else.

But then Ace was opening his throat and taking Marco deeper and he no longer cared. The heat pooled in his stomach and his hips twitched as he resisted the urge to thrust into his mouth, seizing onto dark curls of his hair instead and pushing on his palm, a hand fisted into the comforter to keep still.

He had no idea that it would end up like that when he sought out Ace but it made the whole experience even more amazing, even though a bit surprising. He would have never predicted Ace would ever willingly suck him off after finding out on which ship he was.

Ace hummed around his dick, reaching down to grind the heel of his palm against Marco’s tighs, groan muffled around his full lips. Marco gasped and tilted his head back, blood buzzing as his orgasm drew nearer. He stroked along the base of Marco’s cock before his fingers drifted beneath to gently cup his balls.

He licked and then Marco was coming with a sharp cry, thrusting into his mouth even as he swallowed everything down.

Ace pulled away, standing up on wobbling legs. Marco was still half-lying, catching his breath and with Ace’s cargo pants it wasn’t as obvious but he was probably just as hard as Marco was a moment before. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, grabbing his shirt from the floor, and bent down over him, panting softly.

Their lips were barely touching but it felt like burning again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Ace spoke into his mouth. “ _Marco_.”

He pulled away and Marco could only watch him putting on his shirt and slamming the door.

He fell on the bed, sighing, his pants pooled around his ankles.

“I’m fucked,” he told himself.

And then he facepalmed himself because he could hear Ace’s voice saying, “ _Yes, you are_.”

Finding out Ace tried to kill Pops half an hour after giving Marco a blowjob was a bit disturbing. He didn’t know what to think about it. Was it fraternizing with the enemy?

“What are you doing here?”

Marco tried to avoid Ace for the last two weeks. Not that he wanted to but he _needed to_ \- he was still trying to kill Pops, making at least two attempts a day. It just seemed wrong to fuck someone who tried to kill your father even though Pops, Marco and every single one of his siblings knew he wasn’t capable enough to actually kill Pops.

“You said you’re a doctor,” Ace noticed, a familiar smirk on his face. He looked a bit more amused but it still had the teasing feeling to it. “Thought I may find you in the infirmaries.”

Marco grabbed his elbow, leading them to his office, the familiar heat burning his fingertips.

When they got inside, the closed door separating them from nurses and patients, he asked, “Are you injured?”

Ace folded his arms. The freckles on his forearms were darker than the last time, probably because he spent most of his days half-naked in the sun. Marco glanced at his abs, suddenly curious, not remembering how far down the freckles were. His gaze met Ace's again and Ace's grin widened, noticing where exactly Marco's eyes were a second before.

“Not really,” he supplied. He stared and it seemed as if he wasn’t even blinking, eyes dark with something that made Marco’s throat dry. “And here I thought you were avoiding me.”

Marco licked his lips, fidgeting. He didn't answer, breath stuck in his mouth. Ace stopped watching him, his eyes wandering around the room. Marco already missed his gaze, desperate for it.

“Nice office by the way,” Ace added. “Are you a head doctor or something?”

Marco blinked, realizing Ace had no idea who exactly he was. Most people at least heard about him, about Whitebeard's first commander, Marco the Phoenix. And Ace didn't care enough to know that.

“Or something,” he replied, gulping.

Ace turned to him, innocent smile on his face. Marco leaned in, noticing how close they were. He didn’t even realize he moved. Ace took a step to the side, taking place between Marco and his desk. Marco bit his lip trying to not imagine how Ace would look plastered on it.

Ace’s hands reached out, kneading over his collarbone as he told him, “You look quite stiff.”

His eyes were laughing at Marco and it was all it took for his self-control to fizzle out. His palms landed on Ace’s waist, backing him up into the edge of his desk.

Ace didn’t look startled but his pupils dilated a bit, like he wasn't expecting such an eager response. Marco took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. Ace’s hands moved to the crooks of his neck, his fingertips caressing his Adam’s apple.

Marco’s fingers scratched his spine when he leaned in and bit Marco’s collarbone.

He pushed him into the desk, their hips touching. Ace slid off his boots, kicking them under the desk. Marco kissed him feverishly along his jaw and wrestled with Ace’s belt. He hated that belt. Ace didn’t wait, shifting in a way that made Marco situationed against his ass.

He unbuckled Ace's belt and Ace reached with his arms around himself, throwing pretty much everything from the countertop, including the dirty mugs Marco had been hoarding the whole week. The glass shattered when Marco pulled Ace's pants down, tossing them on the floor. It was so loud both of them stilled for a moment, looking at each other, fingers clenching on each other's bodies.

One of the nurses must have heard that because Marco almost had a heart attack when she asked through the door, “Marco, I saw you coming in with Ace, is everything alright?”

When he didn’t say anything, Ace nudged him.

“Just fine,” he spat out, his voice cracking as Ace’s hands wandered down his pants, “A little temper tantrum.”

Whoever was at the door, left, and Marco prayed she didn't notice what exactly was off about him.

Ace smirked again, his face red in the most adorable way, freckles vivid on his skin.

“Temper tantrum?” he repeated, his hand stroking. Marco groaned. “That’s one way to say it.”

Marco yanked down his own pants, stepping up so he was grinding against his ass again. Ace lost his balance, both of his arms grabbing Marco’s shoulders, tugging, and Marco had him bent over the desk.

“The lube and condoms are in the drawer behind you,” he realized, the only thing he could think about was sliding into Ace.

Marco was glad he kind of counted on Ace coming to him and stored lube everywhere.

Ace crawled up on the desk, turning on his side and Marco gripped his hips, leaving a trail of lazy kisses there. He didn't leave marks though, not with the way Ace rarely wore shirts.

Ace reached into the drawer and Marco sensed something was going to happen before Ace’s grin graced him. He took the lube and condoms out and the next thing in his hand was the wrinkled bounty poster of his smiling face.

“You have my picture?” he asked, palm on the nape of Marco’s neck. “That’s sweet. Were you jerking off to it?”

Marco didn’t answer, flushed, shutting him up with a messy kiss, kissing that smirk off his face. He shifted and the friction was back, his cock swelling.

“Fuck,” Ace moaned into his ear.

Marco moved so fast he was sure he smeared lube all over the desk when preparing him. It was quick, with Ace's legs curling around him in such arousing manner and the air getting extremely hot.

Marco slid inside him with a groan, fingers digging into the desktop. He lowered himself, their chests touching, Ace’s lips brushing the skin under his jaw and Ace’s hand running through Marco’s hair.

The desk creaked as they trembled, muscles tensing, and Marco started to move. It was almost as messy as their kisses, the heat so strong he was sure Ace's powers were acting up again. He didn't know if it was Ace's natural smell or something was starting to burn.

“Ace,” he moaned, burying his cheek into his hair.

Each thrust pushed deeper and Ace panted into his ear, jerking his hips, arching his back to get a bit closer. Marco hit just right, and Ace let out a strangled groan, sound so hot Marco began to move faster.

He groaned, Ace spreading his legs, and he pounded into him roughly. Marco filled him up, his cock pushing so deep that Ace squeezed his eyes shut. He thrust as if he was trying to fuck something out of Ace, he just didn't know what.

“Don’t stop,” Ace groaned, arching.

Marco held his hips in place and rocked closer in an unsteady rhythm. Ace’s legs wrapped themselves at one of the thrusts

“You look delicious,” Marco muttered and Ace chased his move when he slid a bit out. He really did, face red, chest red, sweat covering his body.

Marco moaned into his ear before kissing the crook of his neck. His muscles tightened and he hovered on top of him, coming. He didn’t pull out, still hard in the aftershock as he dragged his thumb over the tip of Ace’s dick. Ace spurted onto his belly as he shivered through his orgasm, fingers digging into Marco’s shoulders. His voice made the hottest sound Marco had ever heard, moan that was a pant, a deep take of breath.

Marco pulled out, getting rid of the condom, and wrapped his arms around him, moving on his side and maneuvering Ace onto his chest. Their breaths were loud, his desktop warm and their legs were dangling over the edge. He left a trail of small, sweet kisses on Ace's shoulder.

He reached back to the same drawer, taking out a box of tissues. Ace chuckled, taking a handful of them and cleaning his abs. Marco was still sticky and he was pretty sure there was a light stain on his shirt but he didn’t care

Ace sat up once he had his breath completely back and Marco couldn't stop looking at him. His black curls were plastered to his forehead and Marco wondered if this was what sex on legs meant.

He sent Marco a grin when he noticed he was watching him.

Marco lied there, still not having even enough energy to get up. He had the perfect view of Ace’s ass when he bent down to put his pants and boots on.

Ace was adjusting the knife he had strapped to his belt when Marco asked, “Hey, could you give me back my dagger?” Ace sent him an empty look, furrowing his eyebrows. He added, “The one you stole, I got it from Pops.”

Ace stiffened, staring at him as if he saw him for the first time. He didn’t say anything, opting for the door before Marco could stop him.

When Marco decided it'd be better if he cleaned up the mess before anyone came looking for him, he stood up, taking as many tissues he could grab, cleaned himself up and looked at his desk. There was Ace's figure, Ace's back burnt out in the wood of the countertop.

Marco would have to ask Izou for a tablecloth. Maybe for an oilcloth, it wouldn’t get stained as easily.

At first, Marco didn't know what they were doing but it became more and more obvious with time - they just couldn't keep their hands off each other. Ace was still trying to kill Pops but just that week, they had sex six times. Marco hadn't even known he could still have such an active sex drive.

They had sex pretty much everywhere they could and everywhere they couldn't. Ace gave him a blowjob in the food storage room and Marco was glad Thatch orders to wash every food before preparing. They had sex in the shower in the commanders' bathroom and they hadn't been caught by sheer dumb luck. He fucked Ace against the wall in his office and this time, he actually managed to lock the door. Ace rode him on that ugly oilcloth Marco got the first time they had sex in his office. It was becoming ridiculous.

"You think too much," Ace told him, straddling his hips. Marco blinked a couple of times, getting back to the moment.

“Do you want to switch?” Marco asked all of sudden.

Ace froze, hands braced against Marco's shoulders. "What?"

Marco took his palms into his own, caressing the hot skin. Just a moment before, there were flames on Ace's back but now the air felt painfully cold. Ace fidgeted, his ass brushing over Marco's erection and his hips trembled unconsciously.

“Do you want to switch?” Marco repeated. “Top?”

“Do you want me to?” Ace asked, his face flushed. They were both a little breathless.

Marco licked his lips, a small pant escaping his mouth when Ace stuck out his hips, bending over him and teasing.

“I’m asking you,” Marco said. “I don’t really care either way.”

Ace moved his hands on Marco’s cheeks, a small smile on his face. It was almost sweet. Marco gripped his hips, lifting his body so Ace slid a little bit up - if he kept wiggling like that on Marco’s laps, he may have come before the actual fun. He squeezed his ass cheek and Ace gave him a playful giggle.

“I prefer to bottom most of the time,” he said, a spark of something mischevious gathering in his eyes. “It’s more pleasing.”

And then Marco sat up a little and Ace eased himself down on him. And if Marco's dick was flagging a bit before, now it was up again, painfully hard. He pushed his hips, making Ace moan over him. Ace hovered over him, flames flickered on his shoulders and Marco couldn't close his eyes because the view was too mesmerizing.

Ace moved and Marco chased him down, thrusting when he was sliding out and panting into his ear. They were always so close Marco could count the freckles over the bridge of Ace’s nose, even when his face was red, even when hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks.

Ace raised himself up on his arms and Marco’s hands slipped over Ace’s spine and clenched on Ace’s shoulder blades, gathering him closer. The mattress dipped under them when they started kissing again, messy kisses barely landing around the lips. Marco looped his arms around Ace's waist and their position was more of a heated embrace than anything, Ace's hard cock brushing the skin around Marco's navel. He pushed inside with a groan and Ace arched his spine with a special moan. 

Ace's skin was so extremely hot Marco couldn't breathe, it dazed him, it made his fingertips burn. The heat in his groin, his mind getting fuzzy as Ace took his face in his hands, rolling his body with soft pants. Marco’s clutched at his thigh.

Ace pressed his mouth into Marco’s jaw as he groaned and Marco rocked in deeper. Their bodies slapped against each other and Marco felt how close he was, gripping Ace’s cock. The rhythm slowed down and he came, lazy strokes making Ace tense around him, pulling him in deeper when he finished.

He slid out, took the condom off and wrapped his arm around Ace, still out of breath.

When he fidgeted, Marco managed to whisper, “Stay.”

Ace glanced up at him from his chest, his cheek just above the mark. His eyes were still dazed but the smile wasn’t as cheeky anymore, rather unsure. He stared at Marco for a moment and when he turned his gaze, Marco continued to watch him. He nuzzled into Marco’s collarbone and it felt good. He caressed Ace’s spine with his thumb and he shivered.

"You're a cuddlefucker," Ace said. "Wouldn't have taken you for one."

“I’m what now?” Marco questioned, sending him a funny look.

“Cuddlefucker,” he repeated, glancing up at him. Marco had never seen his eyes being so earn. “You like to cuddle after a good fuck.”

Marco snorted but it kind of suited him. The problem was, he had never cuddled with anyone after casual fuck, Ace was just different.

He ran his hand through Ace’s sweaty hair and, just because he wanted to, he said, “Deuce is in the Second Division.” When Ace didn’t reply to that, he added, “Someone heard him talking about the wind and thought he would make a good navigator.”

“He’s not a navigator,” Ace retorted. “They all know the basics of navigation and meteorology. He’s not a navigator.”

Marco frowned. “Then who is? I thought your crew was missing only a cook.”

Ace didn’t answer him.

“Go to sleep,” he told him instead.

And because Marco was a fool, he didn’t let it go. 

“Hey, you’re Deuce, right?” he asked, looking around the chart room.

There was only one unfamiliar face and it was the same guy Ace had been at the bar with when they met for the first time. The one in a mask, with blue hair, tall almost as Marco. He looked way too serious for someone who was supposed to be Ace's best friend.

He frowned, looking Marco up and down, obviously recognizing him. “And you’re the guy Ace-“

“Yeah, I’m,” he said before anything of that could reach other ears. “Ace told me you’re not a navigator.”

Deuce folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” he agreed.

It was easier than Marco thought.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Deuce rolled his eyes, looking bored. “Does it matter?” he questioned. “We’re staying here only until our captain kills yours.”

Marco clenched his jaw, an ugly taste in his mouth.

“What are you if not a navigator?”

“A writer. A doctor,” Deuce told him at once.

“Well, I don’t trust you enough to let you into our archives but you can be moved to the infirmaries,” he noticed. He didn’t really want him in the infirmaries either. “What do you say?”

“I don’t care,” he said. “Let me see Ace.”

Marco’s eyes narrowed, his shoulders tensing.

“And why would I do that?”

Deuce snorted.

“Do I see green eyes?” he asked, his voice faking innocence. “I’m his whole impulse control. It’s gonna get ugly if I don’t show up.”

Marco didn't agree or disagree instead asking, "Who is your navigator?"

Deuce raised an eyebrow at that, staring at him as if he saw the biggest fool in the world.

Marco took Deuce to see Ace. He took him to the room Ace was placed in, opening the door for him. Ace blinked when he saw him before grinning.

They hugged and Marco grimaced at the way Ace clung to Deuce. They had sex countless times and he had never lingered like that with Marco.

“It’s so good to see you,” Ace muttered into his shoulder.

Marco hated that he and Deuce were of similar build, his shoulders as wide as Marco’s, his height the same as Marco’s. He turned to the side, standing in the doorframe and trying not to listen.

Deuce let him go and smiled at him. Then he smacked him upside the head.

"Ouch," Ace muttered, pouting. "What was that for, I was behaving myself."

Marco thought Deuce had joked when he said he was Ace's whole impulse control but honestly, Ace definitely wasn't behaving himself the last month.

"Oh, so the eye-fucking I saw when we entered the room was just my imagination?"

Ace didn’t stop pouting. Marco’s face was red.

“Fucking the enemy is basically against everyone’s common sense,” Deuce scolded, folding his arms. “If you don’t have a common sense, at least pretend you have one.”

For a moment Marco thought Ace was actually going to agree with him and the sex they had that morning was going to be their last one.

“It’s just a casual fuck,” Ace told him. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

It hurt Marco more than he thought it would.

Deuce didn't say anything for a long moment, staring at him with a fond expression. He glanced back to Marco and hugged Ace one more time - it was a short hug. He led Ace to the bed and the only thing Marco could think about was how many times they had sex there.

Marco stood in the doorframe, stiff, listening to their hushed whispers. He didn’t look until after half an hour he heard the rustling of the sheets.

Ace fell asleep with his head on Deuce’s shoulder. Marco licked his lips when Deuce sent him a look.

“Want to take my place?” he asked.

Marco clenched his jaw not to say yes.

Deuce rolled his eyes, placing Ace onto the pillow. He turned back to Marco and snorted.

“Do I see green eyes again?”

Marco took a deep breath, controlling himself. Ace wouldn't like it if he beat up his best friend.

Deuce still had that stupid grin on his face as he shook his head at him. He patted Marco on the chest on the way out.

“And I’m straight, Green Eyes,” he added, leaving.

Deuce changed divisions, helping in the infirmaries. He gave Ace stink eye when he didn't even greet him, grabbing Marco by the arm instead and leading him to the office.

This time, it was a bit different. They jerked each other off, sitting in Marco’s chair, kissing while their hands did most of the job. It took longer but it also felt lazier and more intimate.

They sat in the chair, used tissues lying around, Ace’s legs over his laps, his head on Marco’s shoulder and Marco’s chin on the top of his head.

“Cuddlefucker,” Ace muttered to him.

It was so peaceful Marco almost closed his eyes and took a nap.

“Your navigators are shitty,” Ace spoke up, his voice vibrating around Marco’s chest.

“We have one of the best navigators in the world,” he said, not understanding where it came from.

“Shitty,” Ace repeated. ”They don’t even know glaciers are common around winter islands.”

For a moment, Marco didn’t register the words. And then he realized they were actually around winter island and the temperature dropped like crazy, a small layer of ice on the sea showed this morning.

His eyes widened when he understood.

He grabbed Ace around his knees and back, lifting him up, getting up from the chair and putting him back in the chair. Ace blinked at him.

When Marco was at the door, he shouted, “Nancy! Cover for me! I need to talk with the Second Division.”

When he got back to his office, Ace was still napping in his chair.

“So, you’re the navigator,” he noticed.

“No,” Ace denied in an instant. “I’m the captain.”

Marco sometimes forgot about it, especially when there was just the two of them. Ace had been on the ship for over two months and they were still technically enemies because Ace was still trying to kill Pops.

He didn’t comment on that, saying instead, “Thanks for that.”

Ace rolled his eyes but he couldn't fully control how fond his expression was.

“I’m still on the same ship, you idiot,” he told him. “If you sink, I sink too.”

This time, Marco was there when he tried to kill Pops. It made him irritated. Angry. Helpless.

He found Ace brooding outside his room, sitting under the railing. He didn't say anything either so Marco just left the food next to his feet.

“Why do you call him Pops?” he asked.

And Marco told him. He told him and it felt like a new beginning.

“You have to decide soon,” he said. “You can’t go on like this for much longer,” he said. What he meant was, “ _We can’t._ ”

Ace came to his room that night. They had never had sex in Marco’s room.

It felt different this time. When Ace stripped, he did it slowly, letting Marco watch every moment. The way his shirt slid off his shoulders, the way his boots were taken off with one smooth move, the way his belt clanged, the way his cargo pants fell off his hips. It wasn't sexual but it was intimate. He batted Marco's hands away and took off Marco's clothes. He didn't have that smirk on his face, just a small smile which felt more real than anything in Marco's life.

He was taking his time, kissing every inch of Marco's skin, carefully avoiding the tattoo on his chest. Warm, faint fire hovered over his shoulder blades and he had the same kind of warmth in his eyes.

And then he turned them around, lying under Marco and allowing him to do the same, patient like never before. He kissed Marco and not a single kiss missed his lips.

When they fucked that night, it didn’t feel like fucking. It had slow rhythm, slow rocking, like the waves on the ocean. It felt as if Ace’s hands were everywhere and nowhere.

When he came, it was quiet, silenced moan that vibrated in Marco’s ear.

He didn't protest when in the afterglow Marco wrapped arms around him, nuzzling into him and wrapping his own arm over Marco's torso.

Marco kissed his curls.

“Why does it feel like a goodbye?”

Ace didn’t glance up at him.

“Maybe it is. You told me to decide.”

When he woke up, Ace was gone.

He ate breakfast like he normally did. He went to the infirmaries, trying not to think why he hadn’t seen Ace anywhere.

The dagger with a wavy blade and Marco’s name engraved on the handle was plunged into his desktop in his office, the ugly oilcloth slashed, showing burnt wood.

Marco bit his lip. 

It was lunch when he heard from Izou they were going to have a welcoming party. Izou told him he just made a fresh tattoo.

Marco pretended he didn't run to Ace's room.

When he saw him, he spat out, “Is it true? You got the tattoo?”

Ace rolled his eyes at him but his grin was bright. Happy.

“We'll match now,” he told him. “Like besties.”

And maybe because Marco was a bit dazed, maybe a bit confused, he asked, “What?”

“Kidding,” Ace laughed. “It doesn’t match yours. I’m not that kind of guy.”

“But you got one?” Marco asked, just to be sure.

“I did.”

Marco grinned almost in the same manner and took a couple of steps to get closer, leaning down. He kissed him, gently cornering into a wall, taking his face into his hands. He peppered Ace's jaw with kisses, trailing down to his neck. Ace's palm lied flat on his chest and he pushed.

“Stop,” he said. When it escaped Marco’s ears and he didn’t draw away from kissing Ace’s neck, he tried again, “We should stop.”

Marco opened his eyes, his gaze panicked.

“What?”

”We should stop,” Ace repeated. “Stop that.”

And it may have somehow escaped Marco because he asked, “Stop? _Why_?”

Ace looked up at him and they were still so close Marco could count the tiniest of his freckles. His eyes are a bit blank and even though Ace usually felt like a campfire, now he felt cold. 

“I don’t want to fuck this up,” Ace admitted. “I kind of like you.”

“I like you too, end of the story,” he answered instantly. “Where’s the problem?”

“Do you know how casual fucking with someone you like ends in cheesy romance novels?”

Marco couldn’t help himself, “You read cheesy romance novels?”

“Deuce likes them,” Ace pouted. “Not the point though.”

“What’s the point then?” he questioned.

“The point is, someone’s feelings are going to get hurt, either mine or yours,” he explained. “And I don’t want that.”

“Mine are already hurt,” Marco told him, tucking a strand of hair behind Ace's ear.

“ _Marco_ ,” he said his name like it was a preyer. “This just isn’t gonna work out.”

“And why not?” he insisted, eyes narrowing.

“Omitting that you’re my superior now,” Ace noticed, “there’s so many things you don’t know about me.”

“And?” he prodded. And, because he didn’t know what to say to make it work, he said, “I’m a cuddlefucker, remember? We will fuck, we will cuddle and we will talk.”

Ace stared at him with a fond look.

He fucked Ace into the mattress of that worn-out bed, Ace lying half on his belly, half kneeling.

Marco preferred to see his face, his expressions a different kind of arousing, but it wasn’t really possible this time. Not when he wanted to pin him to the bed, held his arms over his head and eat him alive. The tattoo was red around the edges, Jolly Roger glazed with pink, skin sensitive and Marco didn’t want to infect it.

Ace was still pinned to the bed, still under Marco and even though Marco saw just half of his face, the sounds he made left nothing to the imagination.

Marco thrust deeper, one hand touching Ace’s dick, other holding his shoulder down. There were the same messy kisses, a trail of them over the nape of Ace’s neck, leaving marks above his shoulder blade.

Marco bit down, nibbled. He pushed and Ace groaned, “ _Marco_ -“

It felt different. Hotter.

There was a party that evening. They were sitting at the table, Thatch, Marco, and Ace on one side, Izou, Haruta, and Deuce on the other, when he asked, "Hey, why did you give me back my dagger?"

"Didn't know if I would stay," Ace explained. "I did _steal_ it from you.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Thatch cut into. “How had it actually happened? The whole Marco getting robbed by you, I just can’t imagine you outsmarting Marco.”

Haruta coughed into his drink, giggling escaping his mouth. Marco glared at him.

"We had sex. He fell asleep like a baby," Ace answered instead of Haruta. Marco's face flushed. "Idiot left himself vulnerable, of course I would steal everything from him."

Izou snorted into his drink. Deuce, who had already known the story, looked deeply unimpressed.

Thatch frowned. "So it wasn't some love at first sight kind of story? I saw your bounty posters in his office, I just thought-" he said. "Kinda disappointing.”

Ace chuckled and Marco pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Are you still sleeping together?” Thatch asked.

“We are not,” Marco told him at once. Ace sent him a weird look. “We are dating.”

Ace’s smile widened.

“I like the cuddling the most,” he confessed.

That night, or that morning, to be honest, they got back to Marco's room, both a little tipsy. Ace had his legs wrapped around his hips, just like when they first met and Marco carried him to the bed. He pushed them onto the mattress.

He missed it by about two feet and they went tumbling into the floor. He had just barely managed to cover the back of Ace’s head with his hand.

They hit the floor and Ace looked up at him, slightly panicked.

“Are you alright?” Marco asked him.

Ace burst into laughter, burying his face into Marco's collarbone.

“Well, I guess we have a lot of time to get better at it.”

“We’re perfect at it,” Ace told him even though Marco was sure none of them knew what _it_ was. “Just not when drunk.”

**Author's Note:**

> _As usual, if you see any mistakes, typos or other annoying things, do tell me. English is only my second language and words tend to be messed up by me._
> 
> This work is not beta-read.  
> 
> 
> I have nothing to say for myself. _Nothing_.


End file.
